by Shayla Black
“Did you know she’s made five trips to the City in the last year?” Connor asked.
What was he trying to imply? “I’m sure I have, too. New York isn’t far. We all go in from time to time.”
“Gus tends to go home to visit her mother when she has time off. Instead, she’s been taking trips to New York, and I can’t tell who she’s meeting.”
Because she was probably meeting a lover. Or shopping a book deal. “Damn it. I bet she’s talking to publishers. We’ve all been asked to write about Mad. We’ve all turned them down.”
“Why do you always think the worst of her? She couldn’t possibly be a spy, but she’ll sell out her friends?” Connor asked. “Don’t get me wrong. The feeling is mutual. She totally thinks the worst of you, too, but I’m surprised you would accuse her of doing something like that. She loved Mad.”
Her relationship with Mad had been one of the sore spots between him and his long-time friend. Roman and Mad got along right up to the point that Gus’s name would come up. Mad had never forgiven him for the night he’d taken Gus home after her fall down the stairs. He hadn’t shown back up, hadn’t even called for weeks afterward. Once he finally had, he’d been cool. Roman had always wondered if Gus and Mad had started their “fun times” up again that very night. “She and Mad were fuck buddies.”
“I knew they were friends with benefits, but I think their sex was about comfort, not just orgasm. And not love.”
“When did you get into pop psychology, Connor? Look, I’m sorry. I’m wound up and having Gus around doesn’t help things.”
“So fire her or reposition her.”
Fire Gus? He’d just found a way to get back into her life…even if she tied him up in knots. He was so fucked up. “She’s too good at her job. I can’t move her. We need her.”
“Then suck it up, buttercup, because I’m telling you she and Liz are up to something and we need to figure out what before it bites us all in the ass.”
“You really think so?” A plotting Gus was a dangerous Gus. And a sexy one. She was never hotter than when she was playing the game.
“I do.” Connor seemed to relax now that Roman was taking him seriously. “I’m sending Lara in. Gus is going to let Lara follow her. I told her it’s because I’m worried about how the other aides will treat her.”
“Ah, you’re appealing to Gus’s underdog syndrome. She can’t stand it when the bullies show up. She tends to prove she’s the biggest, baddest bully of them all.”
“Yes, and you know she’ll love Lara.”
“She’ll view Lara as a wide-eyed baby bird she needs to protect from predators.” But there was something Connor wasn’t thinking about. “What exactly do you expect Lara to do? Spy?”
Connor laughed, a deeply amused sound. “No. I wouldn’t send my princess in to do that. She would be terrible. I’m going to let nature take its course, then carefully question Lara about what’s going on with Gus. She’ll never know what I’m doing. We’ll simply be talking about her new friend. Lara loves to talk about her friends.”
And she made them quickly. She also tended to be loyal, something Gus could use against them. “I think this is going to backfire on you. Gus is excellent at getting baby birds to follow her. And I’m worried about getting the women together in one room.”
“Why?”
Revolution. A coup d’état. Gus taking over and steamrolling everyone. “Up until now the women have been mostly low key, but—”
“BS, my brother. Everly and Lara can cause some serious trouble. There’s still an APB out for Everly, I’m fairly certain. They managed to nearly start an international incident at the Lincoln Memorial.”
“My point exactly. They can be dangerous.” Roman nodded. “Now imagine adding Gus to that mix.”
Connor breathed out. “Wow. I need another drink.”
He wasn’t alone. “Pour me one, too.”
It was going to be a long week.
CHAPTER TWO
Normally Regent’s Park was a placid ocean of green, and the manor house with its soaring neo-Georgian architecture gave Roman a sense of staid peace. Not today. He stared out an upper-floor window, over the sea of impatient reporters covering the president’s imminent visit to London. The crowd of them was so thick he couldn’t see the damn lawn.
Of course, all those cameras and questions weren’t the only reasons Roman couldn’t find any calm.
“I’m surprised you didn’t go to the airport to meet Zack. You know I truly can hold things down here. Nothing would have burned to the ground.” Gus stared out, her eyes on the crowd rather than him.
She’d refused to look him in the eyes since their arrival. In some women, he would have interpreted her downturned gaze as a form of submission. And he would probably have relished it. With Gus, the lack of visual contact was merely her way of telling him he wasn’t worth her time. All week long, even when they’d been forced to work side by side, she’d made him feel as if there was massive chasm between them.
It was driving Roman insane.
“I didn’t want to fight all that London traffic to the airport. Connor is making sure Zack’s arrival runs smoothly. That gives me a few moments to find some peace and quiet before the storm begins.” Before he could quietly sneak away because all eyes would be on the president.
“Ah, well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” she murmured as she stepped back.
He was so weary of her interpreting every word he said in the worst possible way. “I wasn’t telling you to leave. I was answering your question.”
She stopped, turning on those ridiculously sexy heels he would swear she wore twenty-four seven. Even when she dressed down, those red-soled shoes would poke out from the hem of her jeans and make her legs look a million miles long. It was even worse when she paired those stilettos with shorts so teeny-tiny they should be outlawed. When she wore them, Roman couldn’t think straight.
“But you’re after peace, and we all know I’m not conducive to that.” Her lips turned down in a frown, but she was still one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever seen.
She also looked at home amidst all the luxury. Normally the president would stay at Winfield House, but it was under renovations so they’d been offered this jewel of a mansion in the heart of London. He could practically see Augustine in one of those Victorian gowns, all buttoned up and proper, like her name. But he knew how hot she could get underneath that prim exterior. Lately, he’d been wondering if he could make her hot again. If he could melt the ice between them.
Dangerous thoughts.
“That’s not true. Do you think I don’t see all the effort you put in to make everything run without a hitch? You’ve worked your ass off all week so that Zack will be comfortable when he gets here. I know that.” Did she think he didn’t see her at all?
“Ah, but I didn’t do that for Zack.”
Of course not. Zack might be the authority figure, but technically that wasn’t who Gus worked for. “You did it for Liz.”
Her hair was piled on her head in a perfectly mussed bun. On other women it might look messy, but the soft tendrils perfectly framed her face, drawing attention to her eyes and those bee-stung lips. “Yes. She’s my boss. I did my job. Don’t think it was anything more than that.”
Why did she have to play the tough chick around him? If any realization had come out of the last few months of secrets and lies and death, it was that he missed Augustine. He missed her in bed, missed the passion that had once been a conflagration between them, but most of all, he missed her friendship. He knew they weren’t good together in the long term, but were either of them looking for forever? They were married to their jobs. “So you watching after Lara was just your job? You taking on the Number 10 chef was your job?”
Number 10 was the colloquial term for Number 10 Downing Street, the residence of the prime minister of Great Britain. They’d been in and out of Number 10 several times for preliminary meetings and to ensure that everything was rea
dy for the president’s visit. Naturally Gus had made friends. If by friends, one meant someone powerful who wanted to murder her.
Her jaw firmed and she pointed a finger his way. “That fucking chef made one of my girls cry for asking if she could get some ranch dressing on the side. I get it. He’s some kind of wizard with twenty culinary degrees, but the girl only wanted some damn dip. Pretentious ass.” She took a deep breath. “Did you have to deal with the aftermath? I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t think about the fact that the prime minister might get involved.”
The chef had been caught shouting at one of the aides and threatening to quit if she wasn’t shown off the premises. Watching Gus put the incredibly rude man in his place had gotten his dick hard. Seeing her put an arm around the thirty-year-old Harvard grad she called one of her “girls” had softened up his…did he have a heart? Oh, he knew he had one in the physical sense. He had a whole report from his physician on how his dietary habits would kill his heart someday. But did he have one that felt things?
Roman shook his head. “I told the prime minister that we would bring our own ranch next time if it was too much trouble to stock his pantry with his guests’ preferences. It wasn’t his fault, per se, but he needs to understand I won’t see any member of our staff treated that poorly, even by a celebrity chef.”
Her lips turned up from a frown to a sexy-as-hell smirk. “I wish I could have seen that. And thanks for backing me up. You know how I get when I see an injustice done.”
She couldn’t allow it to pass. She had to fight, not only for herself but for those around her. Augustine, The Ice Queen. “I know.” He glanced down at his watch and sighed. “In another ten minutes, Zack will arrive. And the world around us will explode.”
She grinned, the first real, honest smile she’d given him in years. That expression kicked him in the gut. “Oh, it might explode in more ways than you know. Mommy and Daddy are still fighting.”
“What? Zack claims that everything is fine. Did something happen that I’m unaware of?”
Gus moved into his space, her hand wrapping around his tie. “Hang on. You’ve got this knotted wrong. It’s too short for this suit. Can’t have the great Roman Calder looking less than perfect.”
Yes, there was his heart. It was thudding in his chest because she was touching him for the first time in years. Gus was always careful. Even when they worked together long into the night, she made a concerted effort to keep distance between them. Now she moved in close and he could feel the brush of her breasts against his chest as she righted his tie.
“What’s happening with Zack and Liz?” he reiterated, staying perfectly still under Gus’s hands. He didn’t want to give her any reason to stop. Being so close to her, he could feel the heat of her body, smell the delicate scent of citrus that clung to her. Desire warmed his blood.
She twisted the tie with an expert hand. “Well, after years of flirtation your boy suddenly decided that he no longer wanted my girl. It’s like getting dumped—and hard—when you least expect it, and you didn’t even get the fun stuff that might have made the upset worthwhile.”
Roman had to defend his best friend. He also had to keep up the pretense to prevent Gus from guessing the real reason Zack had put distance between him and his press secretary. “I’m sorry Liz is hurt, but I doubt Zack meant to make her feel as if their relationship was anything more than professional. I should probably be less surprised that Liz developed feelings for him. Zack has a certain charm, I suppose, and I know many women view him as a challenge. Still, for him they’ve always shared a strictly working rapport.”
Her hands didn’t stop working, but her eyes suddenly lifted, met his. Roman worried Gus could see right through him.
“Really? I find that interesting since I’ve watched them together for the last few years. He tends to her as often as she does to him. But then I suppose my instincts aren’t the best when it comes to the Perfect Gentlemen.” She released his tie and tried to step back.
Gritting his teeth, Roman caught her hands gently in his. “It’s not the same, Augustine. What’s happening between Zack and Liz is nothing like what happened between us. Zack’s never touched her. Don’t paint him with the same brush. He’s not a bad guy.”
“But you are? Somehow, I don’t think you see things that way.”
He knew he should let her go, knew touching her, being this close, was dangerous, but he couldn’t force himself to step back. For the first time in thirteen years, she was looking at him. She was giving him an opportunity to explain himself.
Had he been waiting all these years to do exactly that? He’d tried to call her over and over after that night. She’d changed her number, and he’d convinced himself it was for the best. The very next time he’d seen her, she’d been so cold that he’d sworn the memories of her warm smiles and hot embraces couldn’t possibly have been real. He’d let more than a dozen years slide by since then. He thought he’d gotten over their affair. He’d even convinced himself that he’d fallen for another woman. Later, he’d pondered marriage. Having a family had actually crossed his mind once or twice. Inevitable as he’d gotten older, he supposed. Maybe parenting wouldn’t be so terrible. Maybe he’d matured enough to be a decent father. Roman didn’t know.
What he knew for damn sure was that he was right back here with Augustine. Full circle.
“I see myself as the man who hurt you when I didn’t mean to.”
She backed away, ending the contact with a laugh that didn’t sound even vaguely happy. “Roman, that was forever ago. I don’t think about it.”
That was his cue to puff up and toss back the “fact” that he thought about her even less. At least that’s what he would have done in the past. Before Joy died. Before they’d lost Mad. Somehow enduring all that, knowing that life guaranteed no tomorrows, had made him less combative. “I think about it a lot. All the time lately.”
Her eyes flared, a sure sign he’d surprised her. It was good to know he could still do that. “Why?”
He moved in again, like a moth to her never-ending flame. “I suppose I feel the years weigh on me. I never meant to hurt you.”
She wouldn’t quite meet his gaze. “It’s okay. I was fine.”
But now that he was standing so close, Roman saw plainly that wasn’t true. She hadn’t been all right then and her armor was even stronger now. “Gus, we were so young. Definitely ambitious. If we’d tried anything more permanent, I’m sure it would have been a disaster. We weren’t ready for commitment.”
A single, perfectly manicured eyebrow arched up. “We?”
He sensed the danger, but didn’t know how to avoid stepping in it. “Yes, Augustine. We had no idea what we were doing. But we had fun and learned a lot. In the long run, no one honestly got hurt. At that age, feelings mend easily, right? So shouldn’t we forgive ourselves for whatever mistakes we made and move on?”
She pulled away, her whole demeanor turning chilly. “Sure. No one got hurt. All is forgiven. Consider me moved on.”
Frustration welled, sharp and unexpected. “What did I say wrong now?”
Her face went blank, smoothing into the same impersonal expression he’d seen for the last thirteen years. “Nothing at all. The past is in the past, and we should leave it there. But now I should make sure the sitting room is ready for Liz. I’m sure she’ll need some quiet time after all that press. Oh, I meant to ask… Is Zack bringing a date? He’s got a lot of appearances planned. Lately, he shows up for every occasion with some bimbo on his arm.”
Roman saw two things clearly: he wasn’t forgiven, and the past wasn’t just an ancient memory. “He’s not seeing other people to hurt Liz.”
“And yet, he’s managing to do so beautifully. But then he learned from the best.”
He could feel his frustration simmering. At her tight, acidic smile, it bubbled and spilled over into anger. “What is that supposed to mean? Damn it, Gus. In one breath, you tell me you’re over everything that happened between
us, then the next you throw our past back in my face. Which is it? What do you want from me?”
“The truth would be nice,” she shot back. “If Zack only cares about Liz professionally, why won’t he let her quit? Maybe she has other opportunities she’d like to explore.”
“That’s between the two of them.”
She stepped in his path again, ready to fight. “No, it isn’t. That play has Roman Calder written all over it. You think I don’t know your moves?”
“I get blamed for everything, don’t I? Everything that goes wrong, every nasty political move, you lay all that at my feet. In your eyes, no one else could possibly be as bad as me. But you’re totally over what happened between us.”
“I am. I don’t care about you. I don’t think about you.”
She was a liar. The stubborn tilt of her head all but shouted that her bravado was an act—one he’d believed for years. “Is that right?”
“Not unless it’s work, and then I’m usually trying to get through it so I don’t have to deal with you.”
He moved closer, knowing damn well she wouldn’t back up. That wasn’t how Augustine operated. No retreats for her. She would hold her ground until the bitter end.
Awareness flared through him at the light in her eyes. “Never? You haven’t once stopped to remember how good we were together?”
“I’m good with a lot of men,” she shot back.
No one ever challenged him the way she did. She got his blood pumping in a way it hadn’t in well over a decade. In the past, this kind of anticipation had been reserved for election night, but fighting with Gus right before he shoved her on the bed to begin the real battle ranked right up there. He remembered.
Roman loomed over her. “Oh, I think you forget how I could make you scream my name, baby.”
“I don’t forget anything, Calder. It’s just that nothing between us was particularly worth remembering,” she replied, her head tilting back to maintain their eye contact. Her shoulders squared and he could practically hear her growl. “In fact, neither were you.”